“What is your deal with the Ames family?” I said at the exact same moment that Lily attempted to climb to her feet and deal with Victoria herself.

“Sawyer has her reasons,” she said, unsteady on her feet. “She and Mr. Ames have… a lot in common.”

The vise around my chest loosened slightly. If Lily was with it enough to infer that the reason I’d stepped outside with Davis Ames was because—as far as she knew—he was my grandfather, her cognitive capacities were clearly intact.

The fear that her condition was serious gave way to guilt more intense than any I’d felt in the past few weeks. “Lily,” I said. “Don’t.”

Don’t defend me. Don’t remind me that I’m a liar.

Lily pursed her lips. “Sawyer, you’ve been acting . . .” Even with a head wound, Lily couldn’t bring herself to use a descriptor as ill-mannered as weird or strange. “. . . at odds with yourself for weeks. What is going on with you?”

I looked toward Victoria—and the demolished golf cart. “We need to get the cart upright and get out of here. If someone else comes over that drop, we’re toast—or they are.”

Victoria handed Lily a strip of fabric. “Press this to your head and try to stop the bleeding. Sawyer, help me with the cart—and answer the damn question. Mine or your cousin’s, I’m not bothered much as to which.”

Getting the cart upright again was the easier task. I could have ignored Victoria’s instruction. I could have told Lily that I was fine, but I just kept thinking of the seconds when I hadn’t been sure I’d ever be able to talk to her again.

Up until now, I’d been keeping secrets from Lily, but I hadn’t lied to her.

Campbell knows that her father isn’t mine. She’s not going to keep it from Walker forever. One way or another, that much of my secret was coming out.

Better that Lily heard it from me.

“I was talking to Davis Ames,” I said, the cuts and scrapes on my legs, arms, and chest throbbing as Victoria and I coordinated our movements and got the cart back on its wheels, “because his son was the father of Ana’s baby.” I glanced at Victoria. “I’m guessing your father knows that, and his takeover attempt earlier this summer was somehow related.”

“My niece was pregnant by Campbell’s father?” Victoria asked, eyebrows jetting up.

“The senator—” Lily stopped, then tried again. “Sterling Ames,” she corrected herself, and then she finally just said, “Two?”

As in: He got two teenagers pregnant?

“What do you mean, two?” Victoria asked.

I directed my answer to my cousin. “Not two, Lily. My mom, what she told me that night at the Christmas party about Sterling Ames, it’s not true.”